“He is all of these things and more. He’s the absence I feel in the rare moments he’s not tracing my footsteps to see which room I’m going to walk in or foot path I’m going to ruck. He's the nuisance who has dialed in the exact distance at which he can roam that isn’t close enough for comfort but which isn’t far enough for me to yell at him. “
Thank you. I’m navigating this currently—having lost my beloved Oliver just last night—trying as a wise man in training—to hear my own words about what a wondrous life I gave him when I rescued him 12 years ago. Sometimes it helps. Then the emptiness takes me over.
I am so sorry, Dee. And the deeper the bond, the more time it takes. In one way, it's the best kind of suffering there is because of what it signifies about the kind of bond you two have. It hurts, but it is nothing but goodness at its core.
Dee, I think this story is Oliver sending a message to you he is ok. My eyes watered reading your story yesterday and they’re getting there now. It hits home as this one does. This was Oliver sending you what you needed to see, needed to feel and needed to hear. I truly believe that.
I had to preside over the death of two of my dogs, one of them the funniest we ever had, Monster the Mighty Moose.
He was 50 percent Rottie (size and shape), 25 percent Terrier (intelligence), and 25 percent Retriever (sweetness). From the Newark Humane Society. A more wonderful personality than many people I know. Endless hours of entertainment and pure love.
I still have his last paw print on my desk (molded).
It is hard to bear, especially when they can't communicate what they're going through. But your memories of them speak volumes about what you were able to give them. You're right - what is relevant compared to them?
Monster the Mighty Moose’s favorite thing was to hop up in the chair we kept for him at the end of the dining room table at family dinners, lean against its armrest, and solemnly stare at each diner in turn.
He didn’t bark, didn’t try to eat food, didn’t cause chaos. He just stared at each of us in turn.
I waited for him to say something, knowing it would be wise, but instead, after 15 minutes, he hopped down.
Some time back I stumbled upon a book titled 'The Wolf in the Parlor' Jon ? the author. He addressed numerous questions and theories but raised others that should always perplex the human mind in regard to our lacking, that is the rub.
That sums it up. Then again it's a topic that refuses that finality. The struggle that we as humans go thru with dealing with the death of our furry companions has me dredging my soul for understanding. The result always circles back to me the human and the question of my lacking. Personally I've found the connection worthy of endless meaning, not to be resisted. Thus the key to the lock.
“ It is ironic how easy it is to give advice to others but fail to heed the same advice ourselves. This makes me wonder if those few individuals we call “wise” are those who have, in part, mastered the skill of obeying their own advice.”
Without doubt, that is the ONE thing that prevents us from truly living our lives. Wisdom is rarely seen in true form, though we each have the kernel planted in our soul. We recognize it, we hear the whispers in our brain when looking for answers to our concerns…..and yet, only when faced with pain and intense struggle does that whisper become a clear voice, a beacon of certainty. We vow to change direction and take up our crosses…….oh, humanity. We are imperfection. Would that we could maintain that moment of enlightenment and truly, TRULY live.
I couldn't agree more. This one good reason why pain and struggle aren't evils, but opportunities to learn the value of what we have here. Thank you Asperges.
Dogs are a gift and will do anything for their humans. We have a pack of 7 on our farm, from 2 elderly 13-yr-olds to 2 young rescues, and all are allowed in the home. Carson is very handsome.
After 2 rescues went to dog haven, I became an uncle to Max, my farm neighbor’s golden. He is my greeter/escort when I arrive to my plot and sits patiently for his afternoon snack.
Dogs are one of God's greatest gifts to us. We are to cherish and love them for as long as they are with us. Their love is unconditional. They will love you through Happiness, Sadness, Anger, Grief, etc. Here's to Carson and to my dog Peanut. Miss you good boy. Peace
Recent studies have shown that sometime after dogs and wolves went their separate ways, dogs evolved muscles in their forehead that allow them to show a wider range of facial expressions. The clear evolutionary advantage being that now they can look worried, or scared, or confused, or just adorable when their human enters the room. They trust us completely and have gone all in with humans as partners.
We love these monsters so much and all along we know that they don’t get four score and ten years on this earth. My two puppies are both nine years old and I want to appreciate every second that they are with me.
The coward dies a thousand deaths before his time, while the hero tastes of death but once.
This applies to the monsters. I have to be able to be happy that today they are healthy and happy and lying at the foot of my bed snuggled against each leg. I know what is coming. I have to accept it. But I can’t cry every time I look at them.
So, my completely rational and sane response is to assume that the universe will soon come to an end and we will all take the next step together and I will never have to say goodbye.
On April 30, we had to put our five-year-old cat Spotty to sleep. She stopped eating over the weekend and was admitted to the emergency clinic on Monday. The next morning they called to say she had terminal lymphoma (which is an aggressive cancer virtually never caught early). We put her to sleep that afternoon. She had a beautiful life and was one of the lucky ones, rescued from the street in Guatemala. However, I feel cheated because we had only the five years. She was my child more than any of my previous cats. I’m devastated. At some point, I’ll be grateful I was given time with her at all. Not yet. Thank you for writing about the bond we have with our animals. I am surely not taking my own advice right now, but they are given to us for what time we have. And that’s what has to be important.
A "memento mori" helps with appreciating the moment. To begin with the end in mind then, can aid us in our choices of the present. Then one day we can look back and find content with how we behaved in the past. This is acknowledging the moment. Using the future to appreciate the moment, and verifying the moment by the memory of the past.
At this point in my life, I can truly say that I prefer to be in the company of animals. No pretense, no judgement; just simple needs & pure love. Who could ask for more..?
"This makes me wonder if those few individuals we call “wise” are those who have, in part, mastered the skill of obeying their own advice. "
I am a professional advice giver, and I remember the day I asked myself "So how much of your advice are YOU putting into practice?" I didn't like the answer, and that began a good humbling process of keeping myself honest about practicing what I preach!
Yours is a wonderful example, Baird, and it is further proof of true humility. These sorts of introspective knife fights are where, at least for me, the real learning happens. I appreciate the insight and I'm grateful you enjoyed this.
“He is all of these things and more. He’s the absence I feel in the rare moments he’s not tracing my footsteps to see which room I’m going to walk in or foot path I’m going to ruck. He's the nuisance who has dialed in the exact distance at which he can roam that isn’t close enough for comfort but which isn’t far enough for me to yell at him. “
Thank you. I’m navigating this currently—having lost my beloved Oliver just last night—trying as a wise man in training—to hear my own words about what a wondrous life I gave him when I rescued him 12 years ago. Sometimes it helps. Then the emptiness takes me over.
Time 🙏
I am so sorry, Dee. And the deeper the bond, the more time it takes. In one way, it's the best kind of suffering there is because of what it signifies about the kind of bond you two have. It hurts, but it is nothing but goodness at its core.
🙏
Dee, I think this story is Oliver sending a message to you he is ok. My eyes watered reading your story yesterday and they’re getting there now. It hits home as this one does. This was Oliver sending you what you needed to see, needed to feel and needed to hear. I truly believe that.
Thank you Ken. I had the same feeling. How do I find this essay this morning? Because spirit wanted me to—Ollie wanted me to. Powerful. 🙏
So sorry for your loss.
I had to preside over the death of two of my dogs, one of them the funniest we ever had, Monster the Mighty Moose.
He was 50 percent Rottie (size and shape), 25 percent Terrier (intelligence), and 25 percent Retriever (sweetness). From the Newark Humane Society. A more wonderful personality than many people I know. Endless hours of entertainment and pure love.
I still have his last paw print on my desk (molded).
It made so many other things in life irrelevant.
So did he.
It is hard to bear, especially when they can't communicate what they're going through. But your memories of them speak volumes about what you were able to give them. You're right - what is relevant compared to them?
Monster the Mighty Moose’s favorite thing was to hop up in the chair we kept for him at the end of the dining room table at family dinners, lean against its armrest, and solemnly stare at each diner in turn.
He didn’t bark, didn’t try to eat food, didn’t cause chaos. He just stared at each of us in turn.
I waited for him to say something, knowing it would be wise, but instead, after 15 minutes, he hopped down.
He just wanted to be part of the group.
Love this !
Some time back I stumbled upon a book titled 'The Wolf in the Parlor' Jon ? the author. He addressed numerous questions and theories but raised others that should always perplex the human mind in regard to our lacking, that is the rub.
That sums it up. Then again it's a topic that refuses that finality. The struggle that we as humans go thru with dealing with the death of our furry companions has me dredging my soul for understanding. The result always circles back to me the human and the question of my lacking. Personally I've found the connection worthy of endless meaning, not to be resisted. Thus the key to the lock.
“ It is ironic how easy it is to give advice to others but fail to heed the same advice ourselves. This makes me wonder if those few individuals we call “wise” are those who have, in part, mastered the skill of obeying their own advice.”
Without doubt, that is the ONE thing that prevents us from truly living our lives. Wisdom is rarely seen in true form, though we each have the kernel planted in our soul. We recognize it, we hear the whispers in our brain when looking for answers to our concerns…..and yet, only when faced with pain and intense struggle does that whisper become a clear voice, a beacon of certainty. We vow to change direction and take up our crosses…….oh, humanity. We are imperfection. Would that we could maintain that moment of enlightenment and truly, TRULY live.
Peace.
I couldn't agree more. This one good reason why pain and struggle aren't evils, but opportunities to learn the value of what we have here. Thank you Asperges.
Dogs are a gift and will do anything for their humans. We have a pack of 7 on our farm, from 2 elderly 13-yr-olds to 2 young rescues, and all are allowed in the home. Carson is very handsome.
Carson knows it!
Thank you.
7 dogs on a farm sounds like freedom.
You speak from your heart ❤️.
Dog owners relate.
Thank you Barry, the bond of dog and human deserves nothing less.
After 2 rescues went to dog haven, I became an uncle to Max, my farm neighbor’s golden. He is my greeter/escort when I arrive to my plot and sits patiently for his afternoon snack.
Dogs are one of God's greatest gifts to us. We are to cherish and love them for as long as they are with us. Their love is unconditional. They will love you through Happiness, Sadness, Anger, Grief, etc. Here's to Carson and to my dog Peanut. Miss you good boy. Peace
I couldn't agree more. Nothing more pure than the Carsons and Peanuts can possibly exist, nothing more unconditional. Thank you.
Recent studies have shown that sometime after dogs and wolves went their separate ways, dogs evolved muscles in their forehead that allow them to show a wider range of facial expressions. The clear evolutionary advantage being that now they can look worried, or scared, or confused, or just adorable when their human enters the room. They trust us completely and have gone all in with humans as partners.
100%. Carson's ability to manipulate his eyebrows is directly correlated to how many of his favorite treats I give him (fish skins).
We love these monsters so much and all along we know that they don’t get four score and ten years on this earth. My two puppies are both nine years old and I want to appreciate every second that they are with me.
The coward dies a thousand deaths before his time, while the hero tastes of death but once.
This applies to the monsters. I have to be able to be happy that today they are healthy and happy and lying at the foot of my bed snuggled against each leg. I know what is coming. I have to accept it. But I can’t cry every time I look at them.
So, my completely rational and sane response is to assume that the universe will soon come to an end and we will all take the next step together and I will never have to say goodbye.
Your last point is a testament to the kind of power they have over us, and we with them. That is a pretty incredible relationship. Thank you Scott.
I have so many tears in response to this loving piece. They are windows into our soul…thank you
You are truly welcome, and they truly are.
On April 30, we had to put our five-year-old cat Spotty to sleep. She stopped eating over the weekend and was admitted to the emergency clinic on Monday. The next morning they called to say she had terminal lymphoma (which is an aggressive cancer virtually never caught early). We put her to sleep that afternoon. She had a beautiful life and was one of the lucky ones, rescued from the street in Guatemala. However, I feel cheated because we had only the five years. She was my child more than any of my previous cats. I’m devastated. At some point, I’ll be grateful I was given time with her at all. Not yet. Thank you for writing about the bond we have with our animals. I am surely not taking my own advice right now, but they are given to us for what time we have. And that’s what has to be important.
You're welcome Paula, and thank you for sharing about Spotty. It's a long way from Guatemala but you gave her a beautiful life.
Beautiful.
Thank you!
A "memento mori" helps with appreciating the moment. To begin with the end in mind then, can aid us in our choices of the present. Then one day we can look back and find content with how we behaved in the past. This is acknowledging the moment. Using the future to appreciate the moment, and verifying the moment by the memory of the past.
I like your three part breakdown between present, future, and past. This is the essence of memento mori. Thank you, Persephone.
At this point in my life, I can truly say that I prefer to be in the company of animals. No pretense, no judgement; just simple needs & pure love. Who could ask for more..?
Today's memento mori. Thank you!
You're very welcome.
Magnificent!
Thank you Edward, I'm grateful you enjoyed it.
Fabulous essay, Sam. Glad you reposted it!
As to your line
"This makes me wonder if those few individuals we call “wise” are those who have, in part, mastered the skill of obeying their own advice. "
I am a professional advice giver, and I remember the day I asked myself "So how much of your advice are YOU putting into practice?" I didn't like the answer, and that began a good humbling process of keeping myself honest about practicing what I preach!
Yours is a wonderful example, Baird, and it is further proof of true humility. These sorts of introspective knife fights are where, at least for me, the real learning happens. I appreciate the insight and I'm grateful you enjoyed this.